


every name was worth knowing

by thelocalmaniac



Series: we live[d] [2]
Category: It Lives (Visual Novels)
Genre: Andy Kang mention, CW fetishism, CW tokenism, Fluff and Angst, Gender Neutral Character, Gender Neutral MC - Freeform, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Just generally soft times honestly, Minor Angst, Minor topics of race, Nightmares, Other, They/Them/Theirs Pronouns, Tom just needs a hug, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Very abstract sexy times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:53:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21871120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thelocalmaniac/pseuds/thelocalmaniac
Summary: “Can I tell you something else?” he asked finally, quietly. Amalia kissed the base of his spine in response, feeling him shiver before melting into the contact. “I started going by Tom because it was palatable for white people. A lot of us do it if our name is really ‘foreign’. People give us less trouble for it.”Amalia inclined their head, once. “Tomoichi.” they stated, and Tom seemed to warm at the use of his full name. Once they had asked what ‘Tom’ was short for and he had coached them on the pronunciation—they had never gotten it wrong. (They had practiced it; every name was worth knowing.) He rolled over to face them, tucking an arm under his head as a pillow. “Do you prefer that name, or Tom?”“Tomoichi a little bit more. Tom is a nickname, and I don’t mind it if it’s you, but it’s also...not my name. And I’d like to hear it more often than just from my parents.”
Relationships: Tom Sato & Main Character (It Lives Beneath), Tom Sato/Main Character (It Lives Beneath)
Series: we live[d] [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1579267
Comments: 3
Kudos: 8





	every name was worth knowing

**Author's Note:**

> The It Lives Anthology and other creative content & characters from Play Choices is not mine.  
> My interpretation of MC is the only portion of this that belongs to me.
> 
> CW: talks about fetishism & tokenism in relation to race (specifically with Asian communities), so y'all should take care of yourselves if that's sensitive for you.

_We lived, we lived, we lived_. 

The words were like a mantra as Amalia grabbed their legs, shuddering, burrowing their head into their knees. Every night the nightmares came, each as terrible as the last, of drowning in a coffin, of being dragged into the lake, of Elliot screaming for you as _he_ is dragged away, of your parents and the bloody cult markings, of Tom being stabbed in the shoulder, of-- 

But it didn’t matter. Not now, not anymore. They had lived, they had _all_ lived. 

It wouldn’t happen again. 

“Hey. Lia, hey.” A warm hand covered their own and Amalia blinked, looking groggily at their bed-mate. Clever brown eyes peered back at them, belonging to none other than Tom Sato, Amalia’s boyfriend. _Why he agreed to go out with me, I’ll never know._ “It was a dream. You’re okay.” His voice soothed them; they released a breath, counting the seconds before taking another, as he rubbed his thumbs across their skin. 

Tom may have gone back to college after the events at Pine Springs, but that had not deterred Amalia in the slightest. For one, it wasn’t too far of a drive, and for another, phones were a real thing that existed. Together they made the “long distance” thing work, and it was absolutely worth every second to see what Tom was like when he became truly comfortable with another person. 

Amalia had caught a bus to visit him for his birthday weekend, surprising him—they didn’t know why, though. Of _course_ they were excited and wanted to see him! (“You were _born_ today, you ridiculous creature!”) They had fallen asleep watching a movie, they deducted, if the frozen “please press play” screen was anything to go by. “Thank you. One of these days, I’m _sure_ those will stop happening.” 

He offered them a crooked smile that Amalia was _immediately_ tempted to kiss. “They happen to me too. First of Westchester, then of Pine Springs. It gets pretty normal.” 

“That was the opposite of comforting.” They lost to the temptation and leaned in to kiss him, smiling all the while, and Tom immediately melted into their touch like putty, a soft, contented hum escaping him. As usual, the kiss deepened, and soon Amalia was being pulled onto Tom’s lap, hands in his long hair as his reached for their own. One they came up short, he pulled away ruefully. 

“It’s so weird that your hair is shorter now. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it.” 

A little self-consciously, Amalia tugged one of their chestnut curls. After the events of Lake Day they had taken a pair of scissors out of their grandpa’s kitchen and hacked at _least_ ten inches off by themselves. It was time to start over, and a change in scenery would be a good first step. It had been liberating...and terrifying. Now their hair was chopped to their chin, the tips dyed blue. “I thought you liked my ‘anime hair’?” 

Tom grinned. “Oh, don’t get me wrong. I _love_ your anime hair. It’s just entirely harder to grab. I don’t have Godzilla hands.” 

“Thank god.” 

“Are you saying you wouldn’t like me if I were Godzilla?” Tom asked, pouting, but laughed when they took his face in their hands to pepper with kisses. He halfheartedly tried to escape, but didn’t seem to truly mind that much. 

“I would _love_ you regardless,” Amalia corrected, amused and delighted when Tom _immediately_ flushed to the roots of his hair in response, “but I like you the way you are. But, I suppose the monster-fucker in me would be _thrilled_ with the prospect of--” 

“Okay, okay, I’ve changed my mind, I absolutely _do not_ want to know the answer to my hypothetical Godzilla Verse AU,” Tom cut them off, looking horrified. But soon they were both giggling, all thoughts of the last years and the trauma they had faced down and survived forgotten for these few stolen moments. By all counts they should _not_ be alive today, and yet they were here and happy and together. “..I love you too, though. And I would also still love you if you were Godzilla.” 

Amalia’s heart thrummed in their chest, cheeks reddening with pleasure, and they moved to thread their fingers through his. “I love you _so much_ , nerd.” 

Tom smiled a wide, dopey smile at them, and they gazed into each other's eyes for a moment too long—it was a deep, soul-searching thing, and then suddenly words seemed to crawl out of his throat unbidden, unwanted, and he seemed nervous when they were put into the space: “I need to tell you something. You were my first for a lot of things, but you aren’t my first partner. And she...well, she wasn’t great. She used to call me sempai--” He relaxed when he saw Amalia visibly flinch, glad that this person, at least, wasn’t interested in him solely because he was Asian. “--and do a lot of other weird things like that. She fetishized me. Which is why, I—you--I don’t know if you remember what I said that time on the boat, on Lake Day, about how in high school I never thought that anybody would see me the way you do, and it’s still sort of hard to process, but I wanted to tell you that I’m grateful that you even looked my way, and I’m honestly so fucking scared of messing it up. Anyway. Um, I guess I just wanted you to know that I won’t take this for granted? I’m not sure why you even looked my way to begin with, but....” Tom seemed to finally run out of words, and he shrugged helplessly. When he looked back at his partner, he was embarrassed by their absolutely flummoxed expression. 

They exhaled. “..Right. Well, I’m going to try to unpack some of that, okay?” Tom pinkened and looked like he wanted to argue, but Amalia raised a hand to quiet him, smiling in a way they hoped would assuage his fears. “Your first girlfriend sounds super shitty. She tokenized you and made you feel like it might always be that way, and I’m sorry that happened, because you deserve better.” His head bowed under the weight of their words. Amalia squeezed his hand and continued. “I do remember that day on the boat, because I distinctly remember wanting to kiss you silly and then immediately doing that afterward.” Which was pretty on brand because they wanted to kiss Tom _all the fucking time_. “And I want to lay down some facts real quick.” 

This stupid boyfriend of theirs seemed to have an awfully humble opinion of how important he was to them, and it was more than time to put an end to that. It was a shame that this insecurity had gone on for so long without them noticing its source. 

Sighing, they leaned forward, locking their eyes with him. “You were the first kind person I met in Pine Springs. You showed me around, you let me lean on you even though I was a stranger, and you were warm. You took me seriously when I confided in you about my misgivings about Pine Springs and the people here. You have saved my life more times than I think I can count. I owe you _so much_ , and I want you _so much_ , but I guess I haven’t been telling you with enough transparency.” 

Beet red now, Tom said, “No, it’s not _you_ , Amalia, it’s--” 

But Amalia just gently knocked their forehead into his, effectively shutting him up. He was blushing, and his eyes were wide and glassy, but they fought the urge to kiss him. “That’s the broke option, my guy. The woke option would be listening to me rant and rave about how smitten I am.” 

Tom laughed. “Bespoke: letting me kiss you and _then_ ranting and raving,” he whispered, voice thickening with emotion. 

With a bright smile, Amalia pressed a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth, cupping his jaw to guide him closer. He smelled so familiar and it made them burn with want, desiring to be closer to him, always closer, but they still needed to set the record straight. “Me kissing you is way more bespoke. Now please let me love on you.” 

Swallowing hard, he gestured for Amalia to continue. They could tell that he was anxious and hopeful and a lot of other things that they couldn’t define right now. 

“You are kind, and clever, and funny. You get all my references and I absolutely adore you for it. You’re so brave, and self-sacrificing in a way that honestly makes me worry, but I also love you for it.” Tom smiled and Amalia’s eyes flickered to his mouth, drawn to it like a moth to a flame, kissing him again. “So strong, so brave, and so _beautiful_. Everything you touch becomes magical,” their kisses extended to his jawline, followed by nips and sucks that made his hands fly to their waist, drawing them nearer, flush spreading down to his shoulders. Something unfurled in Amalia’s chest as he ignited, awakening beneath their breathless touches. “You feel like _summer_ \--” 

“Ah, a poet,” he sighed into their mouth when they captured it again, threatening to devour him whole, and terrifyingly he let them, trusting, wanting. 

“You make me want to follow you to the end of the earth, and I could kiss this beautiful mouth for _days_ , and your voice gets tremors when you talk about how lonely you got sometimes on days when Andy wasn’t around and it makes me want to steal you and make sure you will _never_ be lonely again--” Amalia kissed the tears off his cheeks and _when had he started crying_ and then they were pulling off each other’s clothes and marking each other’s skin and he dragged his teeth across their nipple and they had his cock in their hand as they pumped it. 

He licked and bit the flesh across their abdomen as they fisted his hair, breathing ragged, back a silver arc as he moved lower, lower, and “You make me feel seen, and wanted, and _god_ I want you to feel as wanted all the time, forever, Tom--” and something in him broke, fractured to pieces, and when he entered them Amalia clutched him tightly, expression open and bright with trust, and Tom suddenly believed every word they said as if nothing else in this world could ever be truer. 

After they were laying together, Amalia wrapped around his back like a sponge because, apparently, part of them “loving on him” was that he got the privilege of being the little spoon. He was lost in thought. They wondered if he was thinking about the things they had told him. Amalia kissed the back of his shoulder, watching the back of his neck pinken with a blush immediately, spreading down his arms. Smiling, they squeezed him tighter, letting him gather his thoughts as they counted his moles and freckles, memorizing the constellations like their life depended on it. 

“Can I tell you something else?” he asked finally, quietly. Amalia kissed the base of his spine in response, feeling him shiver before melting into the contact. “I started going by Tom because it was palatable for white people. A lot of us do it if our name is really ‘foreign’. People give us less trouble for it.” 

Amalia inclined their head, once. “Tomoichi.” they stated, and Tom seemed to warm at the use of his full name. Once they had asked what ‘Tom’ was short for and he had coached them on the pronunciation—they had never gotten it wrong. (They had practiced it; every name was worth knowing.) He rolled over to face them, tucking an arm under his head as a pillow. “Do you prefer that name, or Tom?” 

“Tomoichi a little bit more. Tom is a nickname, and I don’t mind it if it’s you, but it’s also...not my name. And I’d like to hear it more often than just from my parents.” There was an unspoken ‘please’ and it rang in the air around them. 

But Amalia didn’t need it to know the implication. 

They kissed his forehead quickly before pulling back to smile at him. “Okay. I love you, Tomoichi.” 

Tomoichi was immediately scarlet again, and his eyes were suspiciously watery, but his smile was beaming when he whispered, “ _Thank you_. I love you.” 

This time, when Amalia kissed him, Tomoichi believed that this might persevere, that this relationship might be for the long haul. He trusted that Amalia had no intention of tokenizing him, of fetishizing him, of doing anything but protecting his secrets and dreams with everything they had. “I wish we’d known each other in high school. I could have used somebody lusting after me about then.” 

“ _Lusting_?” Amalia smirked at him in the darkness. “As if. I’m just lusting after your man bun.” Tomoichi gave the most scandalized gasp he could muster, putting a hand to his chest indignantly, and Amalia burst out laughing. He joined them, and their cackles drifted into the night as they bickered about stupid nothings that just seemed so normal after everything they had been through. 

And, of course, when they woke up they had sex again, because it had been so good the last time. 


End file.
